Ironbark
by merthyr
Summary: Mahariel wasn't interested in making friends. But then, nothing ever seems to go as planned... Drabbles from before the Eluvian (and maybe a few from afterwards).


****Hello, quick introduction time!

These are a few drabbles I wrote for a creative writing class. I thought they were sort of cute, so I'm doing a little sharing, haha. I always loved the Dalish, so I did some light exploring of my Mahariel, and the clan he comes from. There are a few stories like this, but one more won't hurt, yes? The PC I'm using in these is named Gwydion. He's a bit… thorny, to say the least. He generally means well, but he can be a bit, um, well… yes. He's an interesting little dude. Thanks for taking the time to read this (I wouldn't have, pfft). Bye!

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**1. First Encounters**

Gwydion had been holding his hands above his head for nearly an hour by now. His shoulders were on fire and everything smelled of halla in the worst way. The Keeper had said she'd let him stop when she believed he'd learned his lesson, but she hadn't so much as glanced at him in the past half hour. Apparently he didn't look repentant enough. Gwydion continued to glare at the gate post, indignation tingling up his spine. It was hardly his fault that other children were so stupid! It was their own damn faults for being so easily manipulated…

He snuck another glance towards camp, trying once more to catch Marethari's eye. No such luck; she was busy with another child. She seemed to be scolding him, if the blond boy's body language was anything to go by. He seemed familiar, but no overtly so. Gwydion reasoned that he must be the son of the widow. The boy and his mother had lived with Zathrian's clan, but after the death of her husband, the widow had returned to her family with a son in tow. Ashalle had been muttering about the 'poor dear' for over a fortnight, and had tried to push Gwydion into befriending the boy (Tannen, or something like that). Of course, Gwydion always did the opposite of Ashalle's wishes, so he'd avoided the boy henceforth.

It would seem that he would be able to avoid him no longer. Marethari had a distinctly angry look about her as she pointed Tannen towards the Halla pen. Tannen trudged, head hung low, in Gwydion's direction. Once he'd made it to the punishment spot, the boy paused. He looked Gwydion square and the eyes, seeming to search for a social queue. Gwydion flashed him a fierce glare, daring him to settle down beside him. Tannen, either brave or stupid, sat down right next to him and lifted up his hands.

A few awkward minutes passed in relative silence. As if unable to stand the silence, the widow's son suddenly spoke up. "I'm Tamlen." He said pleasantly.

He was dutifully ignored.

"You're Gwydion. I've heard of you. The Keeper spoke very highly of you—she thought that you and I would get along. But you're always out in the forest, so I could never catch you." Gwydion didn't respond. Tamlen's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "I thought the Keeper had said you were talkative." He smiled disarmingly, "She said we had that in common."

Gwydion didn't feel like talking, especially to chatty brats. He decided to nip this conversation at the bud. "That and dead fathers."

That seemed to strike a chord. The boy's smile fell as he stared unseeingly at Gwydion. After a moment, he seemed to shake his thoughts away and push himself forward. Tamlen looked away and wrinkled his nose. "Well, I suppose there's that." His eyes brightened with sudden interest. "Say, what _are_ you here for?"

"None of your business."

"You're not very friendly, are you?" he shrugged, looking dismayed at the bad turn in the non-versation. "Well, _I _stole from The Keeper's aravel."

"Did I _ask_ you—" Gwydion started nastily, before… "Wait, what?"

Tamlen smirked. "It's nothing. You're obviously not interested."

"What did you steal?"

"I don't want to bore you…"

Gwydion was having enough of this boy's impertinence. He snuck a quick glance back at the camp, noticed no one was looking, and shoved Tamlen to the ground. The boy fell with a surprised oomph, but quickly pulled himself upright. He wasn't angry, as Gwydion had thought he'd be. Instead he was grinning. Gwydion was allowed to be surprised for all of half a second before he was sent sprawling onto the dirt.

The two, realizing how much noise they must be making, sent furtive glances back towards their clan, before meeting one another's eyes and smiling slyly in tentative comradery.

"I wanted to see the old stories," Tamlen began quietly, "So I snuck into her araval and stole a handful of scrolls." He smiled starrily, "They're ancient. I was afraid I'd rip them."

The was interesting, he supposed."But you took too long and she caught you?" Gwydion summarized imperiously.

"Well, actually... " he laughed, "Actually, she hasn't any proof. She said I'd be sitting here until I admitted that I took them…" he sent a sidelong glance at his new companion. "But of course, I didn't take them, so I suppose I'll be here for awhile, right? It's too bad I didn't, we couldn't have had fun deciphering the text…" he sighed dramatically.

Gwydion didn't say anything in return, but his smile gave him away.

"You never did answer my question… What did _you_ do?"

It took a few moments for him to answer. He realized that if he started talking now, he'd have lost somehow (lost what, he wasn't sure, but that was hardly the point). However, as the seconds waned, his need to share his story intensified. For some strange reason, he wanted this Tamlen boy to approve of him. It couldn't hurt to share one measly tale...

"I convinced Merrill that she was a shem."

"You what?"

Now that the word had left his lips, he could barely contain his amusement. "I convinced her she was a shem. I told her she was a foundling in the woods and that we were all just too polite to say anything. I said…" he let out a burst of laughter, "I said her ears too flat to be elven. She ran into the forest and cried all day. I can't…" he wheezed, "I can't believe she actually believe me."

Tamlen was grinning far ear to ear, now, and both were poorly suppressing their evil snickers. "The Keeper's apprentice? She actually believed you!?"

"Yes!"

"That's… That's terrible!"

They were both laughing with force now. After a moment they stifled their giggles, not wishing to incur more of Marethari's ire. The two glanced at the other simultaneously. Gwydion suddenly became very serious. "It's Mahariel, by the way." he wrinkled his nose distastefully, "Only irritating people call me Gwydion."

The two spent the rest of the night by the fence. Marethari soon realized the pointlessness of the exercise (both of them were so hardheaded, they'd be there all night before they apologized) and sent them to bed without supper. Despite her disappointment with their actions, the keeper was silently pleased that the two boys had become friends so quickly. The next morning Tamlen and Gwydion rose early, and set out into the woods together. Merethari found her scrolls back in her chest a week later, a little worse for wear.


End file.
